Eleven

Dad and I had a talk yesterday. He thinks I might be depressed. Not suicidal depressed, but just apathetic, don't like anything, and don't care at all depressed. Which I can't exactly argue with. Ever since that accident, I've felt so lethargic and just wanted to avoid everyone and everything. Just kinda going through the motions ya know? Dad set up an appointment for me with some doctor named Bill Muze. I think that's his name anyway. But apparently there are some real crazies there. There's a rumor around the building that the woman that died in apartment 783 was killed by someone else in this building over an appointment with this guy. I don't know if I belong to that group of crazy, but therapy doesn't sound like a terrible idea. I mean, it'd be nice to have someone to talk to about stuff going on in life but I don't know how important it actually is. Especially for the $$$ it'd cost. Maybe I'll just try it out and see how it goes.

Except, maybe, if that story is true, about somebody killing for an appointment with Dr. Muze, then it's not worth it. I mean, I can deal with it. Nothing is really happening to me anyway. Other people need therapy more than I do. I just have little things that are annoying and build up sometimes, but everyone deals with that right.

I think I need a hobby. Something I can spend time doing. Like a collection. Or music. Or art. Or something. Anything. Maybe that's what was wrong with that guy too. He needed something to do, so he killed someone. It at least shows some passion about something. Especially with a knife, that's close contact. I'm worried I won't be able to find anything I love doing. Mom and Dad are unhelpful. I guess I could ask Edith, but I don't know how much she could actually help me.

I guess I just have to trust myself. I've been so self-doubtful that I really just need to keep my head up, stay optimistic, and push through it. Whatever "it" is. Haven't quite figured that one out either. But at least the advice is applicable in any situation. I'll figure it out. Maybe. Even if I don't, that's probably okay too.